


Over the Hill

by MidLight (TomAyto10)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Neighbors, Older Characters, Second-Hand Embarrassment, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 21:40:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9626726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TomAyto10/pseuds/MidLight
Summary: A new neighbor moves into the house next to Erwin's little peaceful ocean cottage. He thought he was too old to have a crush on the boy next door.Levi tries to find peace and rest after years of work, yet instead finds himself wanting something even better.Mishaps and mayhem of falling in love while trudging over the hill.





	

It should say something about his current state of life that he hadn't noticed when his new neighbor moved in. 

In fact, he hadn't seen when the  _ For Sale _ sign had gone down, and he had most certainly not known when his new neighbor had managed to move in all their things.

Erwin squints through his kitchen window, which overlooks the side of his house to the neighbor’s. 

Still no sign of life, amazingly so.

Erwin had called David, the realtor in charge of the property to ask on behalf of Mike, who had always liked Erwin's house and perked up at Erwin's mention of it being on the market. On every visit, Nanaba always remarked about the view of the valley, in the south, and sloping curve of the ocean in the west and how quiet it was, despite the close proximity of neighbors. A little cluster of people living atop a hill, quiet and clean, next to the sea. Ideal, really.  Erwin also knew that they would take it as an opportunity for them to keep an eye on him, which he slightly resented. He was not very old yet.

But David had told him that the house had been bought and occupied for the better part of a week and Erwin had felt foolish.

He hadn't seen a soul enter or leave the house though and it was alarming.

Which is why Erwin is spying out of his window early this morning, clumsily tearing open one of the dozens of girl scout cookie packages and placing them on a plate as elegantly as he can manage. 

He can't help but wonder who the new neighbor (or perhaps neighbors?) is and how the managed to live unseen under his nose for almost a week. Erwin nibbles at a cookie, frowning as he thinks and sips sweetened coffee. 

The people that lived there before, Mr. And Mrs. Roger, we're an opinionated, but loyal sort of folk. Quiet and private but they had welcomed him nicely when he moved in five years ago. When they decided to sell, something about being closer to grandchildren, Mr. Rogers had come over for a beer and asked Erwin to keep an eye on the old house. Erwin had promised he would. 

How the new owner slipped under his radar was beyond him. 

Erwin finishes the last of his coffee and rinses the cup. The house still looks dead, but the sun is going higher in the sky, and he's going to have to go into town soon. Now is a good a time as ever. 

The jaunt over is an easy couple seconds. Balancing the plate in one hand, the other pushing at the doorbell, he readies himself to make a new acquaintance. 

The morning is fresh, smells of seawater and wet soil. The waves had gotten particular high last night, drenching the dunes. It used to be frightening, but these days he only sits in his backyard and looks down at the turning water, contemplates on his life.

The doorbell rings, sharp and piercing and Erwin waits, shifting from one foot to another. Enough time passes that he thinks that maybe his new neighbor isn't home, or worse, still in bed. 

He considers leaving a note and the cookies. At least they'll know he made an effort, and perhaps that could be some sort of connection for when they do meet. He's looking around the empty porch when the door opens and the screen door rattles.

He can't see through the metal door, but a shape shifts, small, and petite. 

“Hello.” he begins, turning back to the door, “I'm Erwin Smith.”

The person behind the door says nothing. Erwin almost frowns. He looks down at the cookies in his hands, feeling suddenly very foolish. The metal door opens, and Erwin has to step back quickly to avoid being slammed into. 

A man, wearing a black shirt and blue jeans steps into view. His hair is dark as the ocean at night, and his eyes are like a storm blue.

Erwin swallows hard.

He's beautiful.

The beautiful man leans against the doorframe, and regards him like he's an unsavory meal. Erwin puts on a smile.

 

“Okay?”

 

Erwin startles at his voice, low and soft. Erwin at first doesn't remember words, opens his mouth dumbly to let out a noise that sounds as confused as he feels inside.

The beautiful man waits very patiently. 

Erwin wets his lips, almost nervous. “I'm Erwin Smith.” he repeats. 

The man's beautiful sharp eyes scan him, and Erwin hopes he passes whatever sort of private test the man is judging him by.

 

“Yeah, I got it the first time,  _ Erwin _ .”

 

Erwin's thoughts stumble at the call of his name. It fits. He's never experienced that before, the sound of his name feeling sharp and yet perfect from a stranger's mouth. Perhaps it's his voice, rich tones that Erwin thinks would sound wonderful when laughing. 

“I'm your neighbor, on the left over here.”

He expects the man to smile or to relax even slightly at the revelation but he hasn't moved at all, just blinking and regarding and still very beautiful. 

“Wonderful.” he says, though very very dry and dare he say _sarcastic_. 

It's not rude, Erwin thinks, this man is not being rude, he is just very unimpressed. 

Unimpressed doesn't really happen in conversations with him. He's always had, as Nile always kindly put it, a silver snake's tongue.

“I only wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. I hadn't known someone was living here until yesterday. You're quiet as a mouse.”

He gets a slight expression at that, the tightening of his brow and Erwin winces to himself also, because,  _ quiet as a mouse,  _ where are his words today? If the man wasn't impressed before, he certainly is leaning towards annoyed now. 

He hasn't struggled with a conversation in a long long time, he just can't seem to find words, first of all and second, he can't read the beautiful man. It's refreshing, in a lost dazed sort of way. Some part of him wishes that he had charmed the man though, got at least the flickering of a smile, or a soft laugh. Erwin presses forward anyways, though he feels his skin damp with prickling perspiration.

“If you ever need anything, you can come over.”

The man gives him a strange look. Erwin sweats a little more. “I have plenty of sugar.” Erwin continues, tries to joke, but the man’s eyebrow twitches and Erwin realizes how utterly suggestive that sounds. “I only mean…” 

The man shifts, “Yeah I got your meaning,  _ Erwin _ . I'll be sure to pop over when I need sugar.”

Erwin wills himself not to blush, and looks at the pathetic plate of cookies still in his hands.  

“I suppose you're busy so I'll be on my way then.” 

He takes a step back, for some reason not finding the courage to give him his humble offering.

“Did you just take those for the ride then?”

The man is looking at the plate. Erwin also looks down. 

“I apologize.” Erwin wills his tongue to do something beside sink him further into the ground  and hands the plate over, still slightly unsure. 

The man takes the plate, doesn't say thank you or smile, and Erwin knows that he has over stayed his welcome. 

“It was very nice to meet you.” He doesn't say a name, because, he suddenly realizes that he doesn't know the man's name and now it's too late to ask. “I hope you have a good day.”

He inclines his head at the motionless man, and turns on his heels. 

He feels off balance, like he failed something, or like he has his zipper down. He checks, just in case, and yes everything seems to be in place and properly tucked. 

_ Well _ , he thinks, as he get into his car and makes his way down the lane, glancing at the beige cottage  _ that went swimmingly.  _

He works from home so the occasional trip to the library often feels like a vacation. 

Mrs. Parpesian waves at him as he enters, and she leans over and picks up a stack of books.

“Erwin! I got the newest edition of your books! Look at this beautiful hardcover.”

The books look heavy, stacked nearly and thick bound by the hard cardboard and paper cover. 

Mrs. Parpesian pulls out a pen and Erwin smiles as he takes it, signing his name with flourish on the inside of the front cover. 

“Mike didn't tell me about a new edition.” he admits and moves onto the next book. 

“Oh well of course. It's a five year anniversary after all. And especially with that movie coming out. They're gonna sell like hot cakes.”

Erwin winces at the mention of the movie. He's been hearing about it a lot, and he's getting tired of explaining that he had nothing to do with it.

“You know Erwin, you would sell a lot more books if you put your picture on the back like most authors.”

Erwin can't help but snort. “Mrs. Parpesian, you're being awfully kind today.”

“I'm serious Erwin. Why don't you? Your fans already know how you look, no shame in putting it out there as a bit for new readers. Get them into history.”

Erwin signs the last book and re-stacks them. “because I write biographies. I am in no way a part of the history I am writing. Merely the scribe.”

Mrs. Parpesian laughs, her face going rosy. “You have such a way with words, Erwin. My husband could do to learn a thing or two from you.” 

Erwin moves away from the front desk, “How is he, by the way? His back still bothering him?”

“Yes, and try to get it into his thick skull that he's an old man and should slow down.”

“Well, I can't imagine it's easy thing for him to admit with such a young beautiful wife.”

Mrs. Parpesian gushes and smiles, wrinkles around her eyes more prominent but sweet. 

“Erwin, you're the one being too kind today.”

Erwin only grins, “I'll be working upstairs.” 

“Need some lunch later on.”

“No, I have a lunch date.”

“Not my day, I suppose.”

Erwin starts moving, waves as he does. “Have a good day, Meryl.”

The little library in Stone Terrence is small and quaint like everything about the small suburb of Pacifica. It's a repurposed old two story house with a faded red brick on the outside and clean wooden floors on the inside. Everything creaks and rattles, but it feels like a library and it makes Erwin feel a little younger as he makes his ways between the bookcases. 

It's been five years since he moved into the town, with nothing more than his wallet and a suitcase. 

It has been kind to him, and he's grown fond. Erwin sits on a table by the window and takes out his pen and paper, and leans back observing the view. There is very little foot traffic at 8 a.m. and even less cars. 

As he stares, he thinks about his neighbor. 

The beautiful man, the man who didn't seem to be very taken with him unfortunately. Erwin wasn't planning on moving anytime soon, and so he hoped to make a good impression with a man that may live with him for many years to come. But his neighbor didn't seem amicable, and Erwin had never felt so utterly uninteresting before. He felt like he wanted to impress the man that lived there. Erwin writes the date on the top of a page, and stares at it before he caves. The man truly was beautiful. He conjures up the memory, focuses on his mind's eye. He brings the pen to the paper and write out a word. 

_ Beautiful _ . 

Erwin leans back in his chair and looks at it. It's doesn't quite fit. He scribbles some more. 

_ Midnight, delicate, brewing, cold, elegant, mysterious, sharp, glass, pale…  _ the words go on, and he stops himself. Odd, the words still don't fit, don't describe the man he met this morning. 

He closes the notebook and reaches for another. He'll try and unravel his beautiful neighbor some other time. Erwin hopes he at least liked the cookies.

* * *

 

Levi enjoys the cookies. It's evident in the fact that he ate about nine of them not long after Erwin left. 

Levi stares aimlessly as the phone’s speaker frazzles with static as Hange goes on and on.

Erwin is nothing like he imagined. Levi says as much when Hange forces him to as he relaxes by the window and drinks a savory wine. 

Hange is ecstatic that he answered the call even though they talked just yesterday. Hange always has a way of disarming him by the force of conversation and enthusiasm, and Levi is much more prone to speak his mind with alcohol singing in his veins. The conversation had gone from the house, to food and finally to Erwin Smith. 

“That's entirely too sweet.” Hange says, too loud and full of breath. “My god, I didn't know people were still actually that nice.”

“It's just cookies.”

“No, it's the fact that he made an effort to come and talk to you. I mean, Levi, you're not the most welcoming guy out there. So he was awkward and adorable, what else?”

“Nothing. That's it.”

“Did he smell nice? What was he wearing, I want envision it!”

Levi fills his glass with red rich wine. The interaction had left an impression, so much so that around three, when Erwin's car came down the lane, Levi stood at the window and watched, thinking that Erwin might visit for no reason at all. 

He was an idiot. 

The conversation had also pained him. He had never been one for small talk and he hadn't expected the man to talk to him, to come to his home with a plate of homemade cookies like a middle-class American housewife, with a smile and strange words. Since he moved in, Levi had glanced at him every now and then, moving boxes and cleaning and it wasn't surprising that Erwin hadn't noticed that he was living there. He hadn't stepped outside for much, leaving early in the morning and returning late at night or not leaving at all. He was still getting accustomed to the home, wooden floors and the tiny little fireplace that his realtor had told him was more for show, or the small kitchen that overlooked to the neighbors on the right who he hadn't met yet. 

“I didn't notice.”

“Oh sure you didn't. You're so weird, Levi. At least tell me his name.” 

Hange is an odd entity in his life, always present and grating even when thousands of miles away. 

“Erwin Something.” 

Levi knows very well what is Erwin’s surname, but he keeps it to himself for some reason. 

“Erwin! Mmm, germanic. I like it. Very classy.”

“It sounds lame.” Levi replies honestly.  _ Erwin _ reminds him of a hunchback old grandpa with a receding hairline and a penchant for pinching cheeks. The Erwin that lives next door to him is not like that at all.  

“It sounds nice, don't it? Like the type that brings cookies. You gotta send me a picture. He sounds like a keeper, Levi. Go and seduce him.”

Levi doesn't want to reply to that comment. But alcohol is burning on his tongue and Hange always makes him chatty. “I'm not going anywhere near him. He's the type that gets annoying fast.”

“Levi, we've been talking about this man for like ten minutes,  I don't think he's going to get on your nerves any time soon. Is he taller than you? I mean everyone is but is he much taller. I know you really like  those tall guys. How tall is he?”

He should not answer. He should not. 

“I don't fucking know, maybe six foot?” 

“Well, that's perfect! Hey, do you think…” Hange titters on the phone. “-you think his dick is huge?”

Levi doesn't react visibly, but the thought runs through his head and for some reason he sees Erwin in black silk boxers, snug around his hips, shadows dipping into the lines of his hipbones.

“Levi! You still there? Are you actually fantasizing about him right now? Hello?”

“Are you done?” Levi growls, static rushing over the phone, and he takes another sip of wine to soothe how dry his throat feels.

“No! Tell me more about hot neighbor Erwin!”

Levi leans back in his chair. “He's not.”

“Not what? Hot? Oh yeah, what was the word you used yesterday?  _ Fucking sexy _ ?”

Levi hangs up the phone. 

He pours himself another drink, and lets the phone ring three times before answering. 

“I'm  _ sorry _ ~~” Hange begins, high and yelping.  “My mistake. You said,  _ annoyingly gorgeous _ .”

Levi sighs out. Why the fuck did he have the friends that he did. 

Small pool, he guesses.

“Did you really call me to talk shit?”

Hange laughs again, snorting attractively. “C’mon, this is the most exciting thing that has happened to you in years. And he seems nice. Bringing you cookies. Only nice men do that.” 

“He's a fucking dork.” Levi counters, but he looks over to the plate of half eaten cookies. They were addicting fuckers. Kudos to the hot dorky neighbor for baking skills. 

“But a good looking one. At least try and be his friend, Levi. You need friends.”

“Fuck no.”

Hange hums, like one does with a particularly stubborn child, which Levi sometimes is, “Well, if you don't then when I come visit, I'm going to march right over there and tell Hot Neighbor Erwin that you think about his juicy cock every single night.”

Levi promptly hangs up the phone for the second time that night. 

Hange was wrong. It is not every night. Maybe, at most, twice. 

The problem is, very much so that Erwin _is_ attractive. Attractive in that idealistic distant kind of way. The sort of attractive that his twenty year old self would be drooling after.  He is not twenty anymore. He definitely outgrew that taste, surely. 

He downs the rest of his glass and his phone chimes incessantly for a few moments, no doubt Hange trying to text him into barreling over next door and jumping that poor old man. 

Levi stands, washes his glass and then pathetically looks at just how much he drank. 

The night is quiet. After living in New York City for so long, quiet is unsettling, abnormal. 

But, as Levi listens at his counter, it is not actually quiet. And while there is no sirens, or car rushing by or screams or dogs barking, the sea turns from the dunes behind his backyard with the sound of water sweeping over sand and the wind howls as the tide rolls in. He's still scared sometimes that the water might get too high and that the waves will find their way up the thirty something foot sandy cliff side and overtake his shiny new home. 

Levi puts his glass away and heads to the backyard. He's going to check, _just_ to make sure. 

The weather in California is odd, the air is a ocean cool, refreshing his lungs of the warm breath from inside. The back porch of his beige cottage is shamefully empty of anything, just like his front porch so he can only stand out on the wooden board and look over the his yard and down the cliff to the sea. The ocean is fucking scary, and the more he looks at it the more he grows frightened and the more he wants to keep looking. 

Its endless, and in the dark it seems like it pitches upward into the sky, a vast black space that is just as deep as it is high. It makes him feel small and wonder lost. 

The waves are not reaching farther than usual tonight, thank goodness, and Levi decides to get back inside and curl up with a book and sleep, but his eyes flicker over to Erwin's yard, like they seem too everytime he comes out here.

He stops when he see a figure sitting on a swinging bench, also looking out to the sea. 

He's drinking beer, a rich organic malty sort that, Levi admits, is exactly the type of beer a man like Erwin would drink. He's in a simple grey t-shirt, loose sleeping pants, slippers on his feet and he looks ready to go to bed. A book lays open on the bench beside him, looking as if it was just put down in a moment of epiphany and needed deep contemplation.

Levi tries very hard to look away. 

Erwin is very attractive. Not just in that idealistic distant sort of way, but in that way that aches in Levi's bones. That sort of attractive that makes an envious rock drop in his stomach that only happens when he sees his friends happily in relationships, or when a fucking romantic scene in one of the movies he foolishly let's play on the T.V. comes on screen.

The sort of attractive that can sway him into buying a house by the sea from just a mere wave and a smile. 

This house had not been on his top five. He wanted something more modern, in the city where he could walk to places, get lost in the sea of the people of San Francisco, and never have to talk to his neighbors. He had already decided on a condo in North side of the city, but came to see this house just for the ride. It was raining that day and he had been somber and honest. He didn't want it. It was quaint and cute but the neighbors were too close and the area too small and city too far away, and even though the view was breathtaking, it seemed too out of character for someone like himself.

But when he approached the house, his realtor agent shuffling inside to talk to a _David_ , Levi had paused and looked at it critically. 

He had been interrupted by a cheerful voice, and Levi turned only a little, side-eyeing from under his hood, just in case the greeting wasn't meant for him. 

But a man looked at him, damn brightest blue eyes that he had ever seen and his smile was wide and unyielding. It was like they were competing for which was more damning. It was nicely put together with nice lips, and prominent nose and thick almost tamed eyebrows. His hair was a golden blonde, slicked back and shiny wet from the sprinkles. 

“Here to see the house?” The man had said, very friendly. 

Friendly. Just friendly. 

Levi had wanted to say something scathing for such an obvious comment, but for some reason, shyness overtook him and he only nodded. 

“It's a beautiful house. I hope you like it.” The man continued, just as friendly. 

He waved goodbye as he walked up the porch next door and into, presumably,  his house and Levi was left reeling after the short utterly insignificant conversation. 

And just like that, the clouds parted and sunlight streamed over the little beige cottage and everything was a dreamy beautiful sight. 

The house seemed, more appealing, suddenly. 

He had still been sure he didn't want it, but little things about the home seemed more and more charming. 

Hours later, he was second guessing his decision for the condo. Just friendly. The neighbor had just been friendly. 

A day later he had signed the papers and waited through escrow. 

When he finally moved into the house, very little belongings on a cold quiet afternoon, he had thought simply that some things he could never really outgrow. 

So, as he stares at Erwin and his profile washed by a mix of white moonlight and yellow porch light, he calls out to him without real thought. He sort of lost the battle against his impulses when he bought a fucking house because of a smile. 

Erwin jolts comically, and turns to him. 

And then he, of course, smiles. 

Yes, Erwin is  _ attractive _ , in that  _ idealistic distant sort of way _ , he's  _ fucking sexy,  _ and  _ annoyingly gorgeous _ and he's  _ nice _ . 

It's not good. 

Levi flees back into the house as Erwin is in the middle of a  _ friendly _ wave. 

Levi picks up his phone, a glass and that sadly almost empty bottle of wine and retreats to his bedroom. 


End file.
